I’m sure there is something exciting going on tonight: a gig or a party or a social gathering of some sorts. Now don’t get me wrong, I like exciting things. But tonight, I am not participating in any.

You see, a lot of people think I live a rock and roll lifestyle. This is partly due to the fact that I have been known, on occasion, to travel around the country reviewing gigs and festivals. Hell, I even run a music reviews website with my friend. I have tales of drunken nights out, and crazy friends. But then maybe you have to be crazy to be friends with me?

No, as much as I love – and occasionally live – rock and roll, I don’t see myself as a hell-raiser (although I have it on good authority that my beard has the capability of scaring small children). This was brought home to me by a conversation I am having on MSN with a friend and fellow writer, someone I can always turn to if I’m struggling to find that elusive word, or if I just fancy an amusing chat (possibly about cold noodles being ‘cool’ or swans being ‘rapey’).

As she typed, she was sitting with a glass of wine in hand, brainstorming ideas on possible articles she could pitch to a website owner. At the exact same time, I was sat at my computer typing back at her, sipping on a glass of milk and looking at books about tying knots on Amazon. (And for your information I am a Scout leader and not some sort of kinky pervert, thankyouverymuch.)

And this was when I realised just how anti-rock and roll my rock and roll lifestyle is. But , to paraphrase that old rocker Shakespeare, therein lies the rub: I’d rather be me than anyone else. Maybe the spirit of rebellion and ‘sticking it to the man’ exists within my glass of milk; sticking the finger up to the stereotypical preconceptions of a music-obsessed teenager. Perhaps.

My supervisor once called described me to someone as being ‘like a computer nerd, but cool’. And I’ll be quite happy if people think that of me for the rest of my life.

Last night I went to a special preview screening of Hot Tube Time Machine, thanks to the very lovely folks at See Film First. I’m not going to lie, I wasn’t expecting the film to live up to it’s awesome moniker, but it was fantastic!

The adverts said it was like Back to the Future meets The Hangover. I suppose I can see where they’re coming from: is it a brilliant time travel parody? Is it a film about what happens when you get far too wasted? Well, that’s a yes on both counts, but Hot Tub Time Machine definitely a film that stands on its own. The dude from Sex Drive and Kick-Ass – whom Google informs me is named Clark Duke – is excellent, as is Chevy Chase as the mysterious Hot Tub Repair Man of Destiny! Actually, they’re all great. OK, so Ipredicted a major plot twist 15 mins in, and the characters are mildly stereotypical, but the film is far too much fun for any of that to matter.

If you’re looking for a good time, go and see Hot Tub Time Machine. You won’t be disappointed.

(Oh, and I couldn’t help but snigger as Martin Freeman appeared on the screen, thanking the audience for all paying to see the film… Ah Cineworld, think before you play the anti-not-paying-for-films reel at a free preview screening!)

I am rather excited to be going to Leeds this August. Why, you may ask? Because I am going to the Leeds Festival, sister-fest to the Reading Festival. Booya! (By the way – I can’t pull off booya in real life, but I thought it might work in cyberspace. Turns out it didn’t Ah well…) Only a handful of bands have been announced so far, but here are some of the ones I’m excited for in no particular order:

Who is this Eoin Smith guy, anyway?

Award-winning composer and published writer by the ripe old age of 18, Eoin Smith is now older, supposedly wiser, and has nothing better to do than sit in a chair and write about himself in the third person. He's studying English at university; finds the internet intriguing; enjoys contemplating the underuse of the semi-colon; performs as a magician; and isn't sure how much longer he can keep up this ridiculous biography...